


Reunited

by Melusine6619



Series: Nightingale Series [7]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Family, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:10:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine6619/pseuds/Melusine6619
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A warrior returns home to his family, and future plans are made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunited

This is the last in this series following Legolas and Dulinneth as the War of the Ring unfolded. Thanks to all for reading. And of course I must thank Ziggy3 and Ireth06 for their suggestions and support through the writing of this. You’re the best! 

000

 

Dulinneth passed the last clasp through the last hole on Belon’s tunic and scooted back to inspect him. He looked quite nice wearing his new blue shirt, grey breeches, and soft leather shoes on his feet. She looked back up again and her smile faltered. Oh dear. How had she managed that? She shook her head and re-fastened the clasps of his tunic—correctly this time.

“There. That’s better.”

Belon tilted his head and regarded her with large blue eyes. “What’s wrong, Nana?”

“Nothing’s wrong, darling. I’m just excited. Your Ada is on his way home.” She gave a little, nervous laugh as she smoothed his hair again. “I’ve told you about your Ada.

Belon nodded. “Yes, Nana.”

Dulinneth’s heart melted, as it did every time she saw how similar the son was to the father in looks and expressions. Ai, how she loved them both. She cleared her throat, and stood up, running a palm down the skirts of her emerald green dress. Legolas had always said he liked the way she looked in it. And she so wanted to look good for him when he returned. And he would return soon.

Word had come from the sentries a few days earlier that Prince Legolas and a companion had entered the Forest and traveled east. The whole settlement had begun to buzz with excitement and activity. Hunters had been sent out for fresh game, the Great Hall had been filled with greenery, and delicious aromas from the kitchen tempted them all.

And not long ago another message had arrived saying that Legolas would be home before dusk, leaving Dulinneth as breathless and distracted as she had been as a young girl first infatuated with him. Was it any wonder she had managed to fasten Belon’s shirt as badly as he had in the first place? 

Satisfied that they were both ready, she took Belon’s hand and together they left their chambers. They met the king and his queen, Faeldis, in the corridor. 

“Don’t you look pretty, dear,” Faeldis said, leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead before kneeling down and scooping Belon into her arms. She cooed and touched the tip of her nose to his tiny one. “And how grown up you look, Tithendir. Just like your Ada when he was your age.”

“He reminds me more and more of him every day,” Dulinneth murmured.

Faeldis smiled. “Now, Dulinneth, Thranduil and I want to keep Belon for you and Legolas tonight.”

A night alone with Legolas . . . Warmth curled through her at the thought. “That would be wonderful. If you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

Thranduil held out his arms, encouraging Belon into them. “My grandson is no trouble at all. “Are you, little one?”

“No, Grandfather,” Belon replied, climbing eagerly up and reaching for the crown perched atop Thranduil’s head. He tugged at a berry, dislodging a leaf in the process.

“Belon, no, you mustn’t try to eat Grandfather’s crown again,” Dulinneth said.

Thranduil chuckled and shifted him so that he could not reach it so easily. “He wouldn’t be the first child to try it.”

“I didn’t eat as many as Legolas, Ada. He was the worst.”

Everyone turned at the softly-voice protest. Legolas’ sister, Edraithel, and her husband, Malfinnon, were just leaving their quarters to join them. 

Edraithel turned to her and clasped Dulinneth’s hands in her own. Her smile was wide and infectious. “Sister. Are you as anxious to see Legolas as you look?”

“Does it show that much?”

“And more, but who can blame you? I’d be the same if it had been Malfinnon gone away this long.”

Thranduil settled Belon more comfortably on his hip. “Well, now that we’re all assembled, let’s go and wait for him. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

The grounds had already begun to fill when they exited the keep, which was to be expected. Everyone had heard by now of their prince being one of the Nine Walkers, and how he had helped destroy the One Ring and the Shadow that had plagued them all for so long. They were all eager to welcome him home.

After a quick glance around, she spied her parents and hurried to exchange hugs with them. 

“Ah, Dulinneth,” her mother said, smiling. “You look as excited as when you were little, waiting for your Legolas to come home. And your Ada too, of course.”

“I am,” she admitted softly. She was that excited. But unlike then, she could feel in her heart that he drew closer and closer to her and had no need to run off for a better vantage point. 

A bird call from the trees near the bridge pierced the air, and her father squeezed her shoulder.

“It looks like you won’t have much longer to wait.”

000

“Would you mind slowing down?” Gimli asked.

Legolas glanced back over his shoulder. “We’re nearly there, Gimli. I thought you wanted a soft bed this night.”

“Hmph.” 

But just as Gimli was grumbling that he was not soft himself and had no need of such, Legolas drew to a halt and released a breath. He stared, eyes wide, and heart glad. They had passed so many burnt trees, their limbs gone, stumps cauterized wounds. How had this one survived? For somehow it still stood, tall, and proud, its branches vibrant with leaves of orange and gold. 

“Are you expecting someone to leap out at us?”

He turned to find Gimli peering warily up into the tree, his hand tight on his axe. Legolas shook his head, laughing softly. “No, there’s no one there. Now. But once, once a long time ago . . .”

And he told Gimli the tale of how a young girl had fallen out of this same tree, many years before, and had landed in his arms. She had fallen into his heart then too, though it had taken him a while to see, owing to the difference in their ages.

“This would be your wife I take it, by that look in your eye? Well, then, what are we standing here for?”

Legolas laughed again and leaned down, whispering to Arod. His mount broke into a canter and behind him he heard Gimli’s muffled oath, but he did not slow down again until he reached the end of the path. 

A shout went up, a loud, exuberant cheer, and he halted to let Gimli catch up. When the Dwarf was by his side he nudged Arod into a walk through the throng that had now moved closer and encircled them. Legolas let them carry him forward, the insistent pull on his being telling him his wife was near.

As the crowd parted further, he caught sight of Dulinneth. His heart tripped and his soul sang while everything around him faded from his awareness. There was only her. His Nightingale. And surely she had grown more beautiful. Her thick brown hair rippled in the autumn breeze, swirling around her skirts. Her bow-shaped lips were already curving into a smile and her moss-green eyes were warm as they locked on him. 

Heart thumping madly, he leapt from Arod and strode toward her. She ran to meet him and he caught her in his arms while hers went round his neck. He spun her around in a circle before lowering her to the ground. She looked up at him, smiling sweetly while a tear ran down her cheek. He moved a hand to smooth it away, the other to caress the sensitive flesh beneath an ear. She raised her head to his and their lips met, and he kissed her like a starving man. Blood pounded in his veins, pooling in his groin, where lust ignited like fire on dry leaves. He drew back for a breath, but only long enough to take in the glow of her eyes.

“Dulinneth.” It was a groan of need, a whisper of adoration, and then his lips covered hers again, taking everything she offered, giving as much back to her. At last he raised his head, stepped back just a little before he embarrassed everyone. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “My beloved.”

She cupped his face and smiled past her joyful tears. She hugged him tightly again, delighting in his scent and his hard strength, the rapid pounding of his heart, as he held her close again. “Legolas. Legolas,” she murmured. “You’re home.”

Finally she stepped back and studied him carefully, as she always did when he returned from battle. He looked well-thankfully-to her keen eyes, but there was a shadow . . . No, not a shadow, but something distant inside him. Not closed to her, just . . . distant. Dulinneth pressed a hand over his heart now, searching for answers, while disquiet stirred in her own. What had happened to him to cause this? One of his roughened palms covered hers, soothing away her questions, and she smiled at the reassuring gesture. Later she would ask what troubled him, but for now, Legolas was here and that was all that mattered to her. 

He lifted his other hand and once more caressed her face, gliding his palm over the smooth skin of her cheek. “You have been well?”

Dulinneth swallowed, mesmerized by the look in his eyes, by the touch of his hands. He had always had that affect on her. He always would. “Yes,” she whispered. “But for missing you.”

“And I’ve missed you. More than I can say.”

There was a tug on Dulinneth’s skirts and she looked down. Thranduil had set Belon on the ground and now her son peeked around her legs at his father before gazing up at her uncertainly. 

Legolas spied him too and knelt down so that he was eye level with his son. “Belon.”

Belon ducked back behind his mother’s skirts before peering out at him again, and Legolas flinched inwardly that his son seemed not to know him. He had been away too long.

“How you’ve grown, Tithendir. And you’ve looked after your Nana so well too. I’m so proud of you.” 

Dulinneth held her breath as Belon stared at his father. The bond between parent and child was supposed to be strong, but what if their connection, not yet fully forged before Legolas went away, had broken? Surely her heart would break if that were so. Perhaps she had not spoken of him enough, or shown Belon the likeness that hung in the large family room as often as she could have, though she had done so every day. She knelt beside Belon and touched his back. He did not look up at her but kept staring at Legolas.

“Belon,” she whispered, “this is your fa--.”

“Ada?” Belon said and reached for one of Legolas’ braids. 

He lunged forward then and Legolas caught him in his arms, holding his little body close, one hand splayed on his back, the other stroking his head. Dulinneth’s breath rushed out on a sob and her cheeks grew wet again with tears. She watched for a moment, her heart bursting, as the two of them spoke in soft voices to each other until Legolas looked up at her, his eyes bright. And then she threw her arms around her husband and son and held them both as tightly as she could.

“My family,” Legolas choked at length. “I’ll never leave you again.”

He raised his head and caught a glimpse of his father looking on indulgently. He had forgotten others were present. Legolas stood, lifting Belon with one arm while drawing Dulinneth to her feet with his other hand. He pressed another kiss to his wife’s lips.

“I’ll be a moment.”

“Go,” she answered, taking Belon from him. “They’re anxious to greet you too.”

She watched happily as Legolas went to his parents and sister. He pulled Edraithel into a hug, then clasped Malfinnon’s arm and shoulder when he let go of her. Then he turned to the king and queen. He started to bow, but his mother and father drew him into a dual embrace, and then each hugged him close. Faeldis lingered, fussing over him, and would have continued for some time, but Belon’s tiny voice interrupted the silence and made them all turn.

“Who is that?” 

Legolas drew away from his parents and beckoned his traveling companion forward. “This is Gimli Gloinson. He has saved my life on more than one occasion, and he is my friend.”

Dulinneth lowered Belon to the ground and stepped closer to Gimli, sinking into a deep curtsy, and clasping one of his thick hands between hers when she rose again. She smiled warmly. “I am most indebted to you, Master Gimli, for returning my husband home to me. And I would be honored to call you friend as well.”

“Well, to be fair, My Lady, he did save my hide a time or two as well.”

“Please, call me Dulinneth.”

Gimli smiled and bowed low himself. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Dulinneth. Legolas spoke of you often.”

“And did I not speak the truth?” Legolas asked. 

“Aye. Aye, you did.”

Thranduil stepped forward then, raising an arm high and everyone fell silent. “People of the Wood, my son has returned a hero of the war, and with him his friend and battle companion. Tonight, we feast.”

Legolas lowered his hand to clasp Dulinneth’s, and when her eyes met his her heart fluttered at the promise in them. Tonight, they said, he would have his own feast. She could hardly wait.

 

000

They left the feast as soon as Thranduil had toasted Legolas’ return and officially welcomed Gimli. Belon gave no protest as Legolas eased him into Faeldis’ arms. He was already half asleep, having been awake far past his bedtime. Murmuring their “good nights,” Legolas and Dulinneth clasped hands and hurried inside.

But once in the quiet of the corridors, Legolas tugged on Dulinneth’s hand, pulling her into an alcove. He claimed her lips, plundered them, his tongue darting inside to mate with hers. Her arms went round his neck and she pressed her body even more snugly against him and eagerly kissed him back. Legolas’ hand slipped to the indentation above her buttocks, the other sifted through and caught a bundle of her hair as he nipped his way up her jaw line.

“I’ve missed kissing you.”

His breath was hot against her ear, his voice rough as he whispered more. Dulinneth shivered with need as he told her all he had missed, all the ways he wanted to make up for them. 

“Show me,” she begged.

With a groan he pulled away. “Not here.” 

They moved, raced through the corridors until they reached their chambers. Barely inside, Dulinneth drew his head to hers, her hands tangling in his hair, her lips meeting his. How she had missed the taste of him, the feel of him as he held her. 

Legolas nudged the door closed with his foot and reached behind him to set the bar in place. He crushed her against him, enjoying the feel of her soft body against his, her sweet, beckoning scent filling his nostrils. Every night he had been away he had dreamed of holding her again, but dreams were nothing to reality. He took control of the kiss again, her soft mewl of pleasure making him crave her more. 

Her hands maneuvered between them, worked his belt free. It thudded to the floor, and she arched closer to him again. Tried to wrap herself around him. Legolas lowered a hand to her raised thigh and caressed upward, and Dulinneth moaned as her gown provided no barrier to the heat of his touch. 

Legolas shifted, picked her up easily and carried her into their bedroom. He let her slide to the floor, closing his eyes at the friction against his arousal. Dulinneth stepped back, just enough to unfasten the clasps of his shirt. She pushed the material away, her soft hands searing his skin. He shrugged his tunic the rest of the way off and reached for her, his lips finding hers again, his hands sliding through her hair.

Dulinneth trembled, her blood coursing hot through her veins, as he swiftly worked the ties of her dress loose. The bodice sagged forward and he bent his head to kiss her shoulders. His lips moved lower, trailing over a breast, and Dulinneth clutched at his head when his tongue lapped at her nipple. 

“Legolas . . .”

He raised his head, hooded eyes holding hers as he tugged her dress lower. Dulinneth pushed at it until at last it fell around her feet. Before she could step out of it Legolas caught her up again and carried her to their bed. She lay back, watching as he pulled off his boots and stripped away his leggings. She hardly had time to admire him before he joined her, settling his body between her legs, bracing himself above her, blue eyes blazing down at her with that combination of love and lust that always made her knees weak. She parted her legs more, urging him to fill her, but without warning he rolled over, drawing her with him. His hands moved to her hips, and he smiled. There was no need for words; they knew each other as lovers too well. Her gaze holding his, Dulinneth rose above him, then slowly sank down again, taking him inside her, their soft gasps of pleasure mingling in the silence. She held still, savoring their being joined again after so long.

“I love you,” she murmured.

He caught a thick lock of her hair and gently urged her head down to meet his. “I love you too,” he answered, just before claiming her lips again.

And then she began to move, and neither could speak no more.

000

Dulinneth stirred and a sigh of contentment left her as her eyes focused on her husband. It had been too long since she had awakened with him. Far too long. He smiled too and smoothed a hand from the tip of her ear to her waist. There it rested for a heartbeat before curving around it and drawing her close.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked.

“A little while. I missed watching you sleep.” He gazed at her, not speaking again for a while, and then, “Forgive me, Dulinneth. I never meant to be away so long.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here,” she breathed, reaching to sooth away his frown. “You’re here.”

“Still--.”

“Tell me of your journey,” Dulinneth interrupted. She did not want him to feel any guilt over being gone. He had done his duty as a warrior, not just for her and for Mirkwood, but for all Middle-earth. He had done what he had to do. “Tell me everything.”

“There is much darkness in it,” he warned. “And death.”

“Share it with me anyway,” she urged. “I want to know all. I sensed moments of worry and doubt. And fear.”

He told her all, the truth about the creature they had guarded, then of the beauty of Imladris and the Great Council there, and of Lothlorien, of the darkness and terror of Moria, of the Balrog, of the plains of Rohan, the majesty of Minas Tirith, and of the dread emptiness of the lands surrounding Mordor, of the defeat of Sauron. 

“We rested afterwards near the forest of Ithilien, in northern Gondor.” Here he smiled. “You would like it there, melethen. There are great trees there, of many kinds, though the land has been desolated, because of the Shadow. But the land is beautiful in spite of that.”

She heard the wonder in his voice, the longing to put things right there. “You want to bring healing to this place.”

Legolas smiled. She knew him so well, his wife. “Yes, I would. If you’re agreeable, I’d like to take some of our people there to live. I think the forest would like to shelter us. You don’t have to answer right away.”

The thought of moving away, of leaving her parents and friends behind filled her with dismay at first, but Legolas was her family, her shelter. Her home. There was no question of her answer. There never had been.

“I would follow you to the ends of Arda and beyond, Legolas, you know that. If you want to go I will gladly go with you.” 

She studied him closely again, that same feeling from earlier returning, that same hint of something pulling at him from afar. 

“Will you not tell me what’s wrong? I know there’s something more. In here.” She pressed her hand to his chest again, fingers splayed. For a moment she relished the shudder that ran through him at her touch, but she wanted answers from him now. 

He closed his eyes a moment, uncertain how to tell her, not wanting to burden her with his fate. But he had never hidden anything from her and he would not begin now. “When we were at Pelargir I heard birds of the sea. Dulinneth . . . I have the Sea Longing.”

“Legolas, no.” She could think of nothing else to say. What could she say? 

“It’s all right,” he murmured, threading his fingers in her hair again. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her soft lips parted in disbelief. “It isn’t bad yet. It won’t be for some time. But it’s all right. Arda is your home, and if you don’t want to leave--.”

She sat up and frowned at him. “And would you suffer for my sake? No.” She shook her head for emphasis. “I will not watch you. I love you too much for that. No, my Greenleaf. If you are called to Elvenhome, I go with you, for my heart will never cease to call me to you. No matter where you go, I’ll follow.”

And the matter was settled, just like that. Legolas smiled again and drew her down atop him again. Her determination and steadfastness, as always, filled him with hope and strength. And peace. With her at his side there was nothing he could not face. Not even the call of the Sea could drive him mad. “I was right all those years ago,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“When you said you were going to marry me, and I said I would be a lucky man if you did,” he replied. “And I am. The luckiest of men.”

 

000

In the year 120 of the Fourth Age, King Elessar passed, and Legolas, who had stayed in Middle-earth to bring healing to the forest of Ithilien and offer further aid to his friend, built a grey ship. When it was ready he sailed it down the Anduin and over the Great Sea. With him traveled his wife, their eldest son, Belon, their second son, Thalion, and their friend, Gimli. They settled in Eldamar, near their kin, and began to build a new life in that fabled land.

One year later, Dulinneth gave birth to a daughter, Meressel. 

 

The End

 

Meressel—Joyous Girl, Legolas and Dulinneth’s daughter  
Belon—Strong One, Legolas and Dulinneth’s firstborn son  
Thalion—Son of stalwart one, Legolas and Dulinneth's second son  
Edraithel—Saving Sister—Legolas’ younger sister  
Malfinnon—Golden Haired, her husband  
Faeldis—Generous Bride, Thranduil’s queen and Legolas’ mother

All names for this series are from the Merin Essi ar Quenteli website.


End file.
